


reunion

by curiositykilled



Series: tumblr prompts [12]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Future, Exes, F/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: Ten years later, the world is at peace, but the universe still has a few things to put right.





	reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #40: exes meeting again after not speaking for years for littlewhitetie on tumblr ^-^

                  She should’ve known he’d be here. She would have, if only she’d thought at all. It is the anniversary celebration, after all – ten years since the multiverse was mended and balance returned. Ten years – a blink in the whole of her life – and yet it feels even longer than her 10,000-year sleep. The life she lives, the world she knows, is all so different than it once had been. So different from where she’d expected to be.

                  His mouth is curved up in a smile before he sees her, and it crinkles the skin by his eyes. The scar remains, but it’s faded now, softened. Perhaps time has been kind to him in this way, at least. She stops herself before she can form an opinion on that; his eyes have widened in surprise, that bright smile gone a little slack.

                  “Allura. Princess,” he says. His eyes track across her face as if searching for something. He closes them as he gives a little shake of his head, and when he opens them, the smile has returned. “I didn’t expect to bump into you.”

                  Before she can help it, she raises her chin slightly, defensive.

                  “The rest of Team Voltron is here, aren’t they?” she says.

                  If it comes out like a challenge, he doesn’t seem to notice.

                  “Yeah,” he says. “A real reunion. It’s good to have everyone together again.”

                  He looks out over the crowd as he speaks, and Allura doesn’t need to follow his gaze to remember this pattern. She does anyway. First Keith, leaning against the wall with his mother; then Pidge, bent over a datapad one of the former Blades holds; Lance, his arm looped around Coran’s shoulders like old friends; and Hunk, dwarfed by Shay and some other Balmerans. Shiro turns back to her.

                  “It has been a long time,” she concedes.

                  He breathes out a little laugh. There’s something too gentle in his gaze, too soft and open. Meeting it directly makes her heart give a painful thud. _No more, no more,_ it says. It’s too similar to what she’s already lost twice before.

                  “How have you been? And your husband?” she asks for a distraction.

                  The question borders on the masochistic. The invitation is still tucked away somewhere in Atlas’ files, read once and hidden. She’d had Coran send a gift instead. Responding herself had hurt too much.

                  It had made sense, in a way – or, no. It hadn’t made sense, but nothing really had then. It had shared in the reasonless rhythm of everything else. They had faced the apocalypse, and in its world-shaking wake, everyone had grabbed hold of whatever stability they found. The Garrison had been desperate for Shiro to stay, and Voltron was in low demand. Black had seemed content to wait in the desert with her paladin for whenever, if ever, the call came again.

                  “Curtis? Oh.” Shiro laughs and rubs the back of his neck. He looks a little abashed. “We’re not together.”

                  “Oh!” Allura says. Once again, she stamps out the start of some unwelcome feeling. “I am sorry; I didn’t know.”

                  He waves the apology away, nearly careless.

                  “It wasn’t anything bad,” he explains. “We’re still friends. I think we were both just – looking for something to hold onto. Some kind of home.”

                  For the first time, that unnamable emotion bucks Allura’s grip. _What about your home here?_ it wails. _What about your home with —_ She throttles it calmly.

                  “Anyway, he’s been helping with the rebuilding efforts in Europe these last couple years,” Shiro continues. “He’s pretty happy, has a new boyfriend who’s super into green ag.”

                  There’s no resentment in his voice, and his small smile is genuine.

                  “And you?” Allura asks.

                  “Oh, no. Nah, my work with the Garrison keeps me pretty busy. And you know how jealous Black can get.”

                  He adds the last in a clear attempt at a diversion, and Allura arches an eyebrow, unimpressed.

                  “What happened to getting rest? Taking care of yourself?” she prompts.

                  Now, he arches an eyebrow. There’s a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he’s trying to press it down.

                  “You’re one to talk – leading the Intergalactic Alliance and spearheading revitalization efforts across systems?” he points out.

                  Allura flushes a little. She hadn’t realized he had paid attention to what she was doing.

                  “Just because I do it doesn’t mean you should,” she grumbles.

                  “Alright, Ms. Pot,” he teases.

                  Over the years, she’s become familiar enough with Earth’s idioms to recognize this one. She rolls her eyes, but there’s an irrepressible smile curling her lips. The banter feels easy, comfortable. It’s been so long since she’s had this: the ease of understanding each other, the inside joke of their own burdens. It’s a small club, one they alone formed when they led Voltron together. At the time, they hadn’t needed many words to share a comforting sort of solidarity over their shared responsibility.

                  She almost says something. The words are already breath when they’re interrupted.

                  “Family photo time!” Lance cheers.

                  His intrusion startles her, breaks the soft-edged bubble that had formed around them. Allura laughs, looks down at her hands, and the words slip back into silence.

                  They’re shuffled together before the big banner, and Allura winds up between Shiro and Coran. The photographer insists they move closer – and closer – to fit in the frame, until Allura is pressed against Shiro from shoulder to leg. He radiates warmth.

                  “Say ‘Voltron’!”

                  It comes out laughing. How absurd to call it out in such a carefree manner. For so long, it was a war cry. Now, they are safe and smiling and free.

                  “Now a silly one,” Lance declares.

                  Allura’s eyebrows raise, though it’s not in real surprise. As much as he’s matured and grown since she first met him, Lance retains his childlike enthusiasm. It’s good, she thinks. She’s glad. She couldn’t bear to see him solemn and silent, that intrinsic delight burnt out. Shiro turns to her, a little helpless.

                  “Any ideas?” he asks.

                  On his other side, Lance and Hunk are posing together with pouty lips, and on hers, Coran has pulled up into an overly regal stance. Beside him, Keith and Pidge make absurd faces. She turns back to Shiro.

                  “I can pick you up?” she offers.

                  He laughs, and nods, and in moments, she holds him bridal-style in her arms. His laughter is contagious. She’s grinning as the camera goes off, Shiro’s prosthesis folded gently over her shoulders.

                  She sets him down gently, still smiling. The cool detachment she’d enforced at the start of the reunion has thawed and melted away. For the first time in a long time, she feels young. Free.

                  She’d known she missed them, of course, but she’s startled by the force of it. By the powerful relief and joy she feels at being back with her team, her friends. Shiro hadn’t been wrong about her work keeping her busy, but perhaps she could make some time to see them more often. The universe won’t fall apart if she takes a brief break every now and then. Her work has ensured that.

                  Shiro watches her, head canted to the side just-so. Vestiges of his laughter linger in the smile on his lips and the soft look in his eyes. This time, she smiles back.

                  “I’ve missed you,” she says.

                  She means to continue, to say “I’ve missed you all,” but her words stop there, and they’re still true. For too long, she's told herself that the past was the past and there was no changing it nor living in it. The walls she'd placed around it had been meant to protect her, to guard her heart from the thorns of regret. In blocking all light to it, though, she'd cut off any possibilities that might bud from it, too.

                  Shiro's expression softens. Gentles. Turns to something achingly intimate.

                  “I’ve missed you, too,” he says.

                  He pauses, lips slightly parted as if about to say something. He takes a breath instead and furrows his brow, a little quizzical.

                  “Do you want to get some air?” he asks.

                  Atlas’ air circulation keeps the room from being stuffy or too hot even with the room filled to the brim. Still, Allura nods and lets Shiro lead her out onto one of the balconies. Stars stretch overhead, and the closest galaxy spins in imperceptible cycles, feathered with pink and blue. Atlas’ shield is barely a shimmer between them and the eternal night.

                  Shiro takes a deep breath, tilting his head back as if to better see. Cool light falls on his face, on the planes of his cheeks and nose and in the dark depths of his eyes, but the warm light of the interior of the ship paints his edges in honeyed gold.

                  “I’ll never get used to this,” he admits.

                  Allura smiles and leans against the balcony rail. He glances to her with a little smile and moves to join her.

                  “It’s beautiful,” she agrees.

                  He hums in affirmation, but she can still feel his gaze on the side of her face. She can’t quite suppress the smile the pulls on her lips.

                  “Do you miss it?” she asks. “Voltron? Being in space?”

                  “Yeah,” Shiro admits with a quickness that makes her turn to him in surprise. “I like my work at the Garrison, but it’s nothing like being among the stars. I’ve been – restless, I guess. I’m trying to figure out a way to get more air time in while still being helpful. Useful.”

                  He sighs and rubs at his right arm, where she knows the prosthesis meets his skin.

                  “I know it’s selfish,” he says.

                  Allura frowns. She turns to face him now, arms folding together.

                  “Don’t be absurd, Takashi,” she says. He looks up. “You’ve sacrificed more than anyone could ask of another for the wellbeing of the universe. You’ve given more than you ever owed. The last thing you are is selfish.”

                  He tilts his head with a little smile.

                  “I’m selfish about some things,” he says, meeting her gaze.

                  They stand suspended for a moment before she leans in, relenting. He meets her halfway. Despite all her heart’s earlier protests, it offers no objections now. It only settles into a contented rhythm, appeased at last.

                  Shiro’s hands, mismatched are gentle where they cup her head. Her own fall to his waist, pulling him close. It’s a brief kiss, chaste, but they linger in each other’s space when they part. They’re near enough for her to see the reflections of stars in his eyes.

                  “I hope I didn’t read that wrong,” he breathes out.

                  She laughs, shoulders shaking.

                  “Not in any universe,” she promises.

                  He smiles, beautiful, helpless, happy. Her heart beats against her chest, all this tumultuous joy rising up in her throat.

                  “There’s a position in the Alliance that needs filled,” she says. He raises an eyebrow and waits for her explanation. “The liaison to Earth. Based off the Atlas but with planetary missions. Still helping.”

                  “I imagine they want a diplomat for that,” he objects gently. “Someone with experience.”

                  She tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow.

                  “And what would you call the Black Paladin, Leader of Voltron?”

                  He starts to reply only to visibly rethink it and nod in concession instead. He pauses, studying her.

                  “You would really want me there?” he asks.

                  There’s a guarded vulnerability in his voice that nearly makes her want to reach up and cradle his jaw in her hand, remind him how dear he is to her. She resists for the moment. Right now, he needs to hear something surer than what he might think is only infatuation.

                  “Shiro, there is no one I trust more in all the universe,” she says. “You are exceptional at all you do, and your sense of duty is unparalleled. I could not believe more firmly in your fit for the position.”

                  The corner of his mouth curves up in a little smile, and she pauses before giving in to her stubborn heart.

                  “And, selfishly,” she says with a wry smile, “I want you here. I’ve always wanted you here.”

                  It’s a tender spot she’s bared, but she isn’t scared. If she is to leave her heart in someone’s hands, she could pick no one better. His hands have always been kind to her.

                  When they kiss this time, there’s an edge of desperation to it, as if they’re both trying to catch up on all the time they’ve missed. It’s been years since they kissed like this, but they find each other as if no time has passed at all. They still fit in all the familiar places.

                  They part only for breath, and stay a moment with their foreheads pressed together. Shiro watches her with wonder, and Allura’s chest is tight with joy. She’s undone with it, all her walls gently unraveled.

                  “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” he says. “I’ve been an idiot.”

                  “Me, too,” she admits. “I thought I could run away and forget but – I don’t want to. I never want to forget you.”

                  His eyes widen just-so, before his expression softens and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

                  “I’ve never stopped loving you,” he says. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can want to.”

                  There’s a rawness to his voice that gives her heart a painful squeeze.

                  “I love you, Allura,” he continues. “I’ve loved you from across the universe. But…it would be nice to be at your side again.”

                  She bites her bottom lip before her smile grows too wide to permit it. Happiness is a physical force in her chest, a joyous pressure against her ribs. Finally, she releases her hand to cup his cheek and draw him back down to her.

                  “Welcome back, Takashi,” she says against his lips.


End file.
